6.
“Why won’t the bleeding stop?” Thalia demanded.
The scene was straight from a nightmare, crimson everywhere, and to make matters worse, the small medical staff wasn’t trained in Animari physiology. Nobody had a spare breath to answer, working flat out to extract the bullet from Raff’s shoulder. Judging by his expression, the doctor was completely baffled, which didn’t bode well.
“Vitals dropping,” the nurse called.
Thalia stared at the medical machines, uncomprehending. House Manwaring had a weapon designed to kill Animari in one shot. The horror swept over her in a chilling wave that prickled her skin. It could only mean that they had no intention of making peace or accepting Thalia as queen of the Eldritch. No, they meant to follow her father back to the old, murderous ways and would prefer to see the Animari and Golgoth both go extinct. House Manwaring didn’t have that power, of course, which was why they’d allied with the tyrant Tycho.
“He needs a transfusion,” Dr. Wyeth said.
Immediately, the four Pine Ridge guards stepped forward. The youngest, Tavros, said, “It should be me. I’m type O negative, universal donor.”
Under normal circumstances, they’d take blood and run tests to make sure, but medical machines made it clear they didn’t have time. Raff didn’t have time. The emergency team glanced at Thalia, likely hoping she’d take responsibility for the decision.
Life and death, that’s my job. I’ll carry this too.
“Do it. Save him. If there are complications, I’ll take responsibility.”
Relieved of culpability, they got to work swiftly, pumping Tavros’s blood into Raff.
Mags had been examining the bloody projectile and she suddenly dropped it with a shudder. “This is treated black iron with a beryllium core.”
“What does that mean?”
“It’s an Animari slayer. Treated black iron prevents wounds from healing. The chemical interaction hinders coagulation. And beryllium is toxic to us, as few substances are. We’re resistant to most chemical weapons, most herbal poisons as well.” Magda let out a long sigh, her gaze fixed on Raff. “Whoever designed this knows a great deal about Animari vulnerabilities.”
It was impossible not to wonder about the Ash Valley second, who had disappeared during the attack. Dead people could not hide, so probability suggested that he had gone with the Golgoth. To Thalia’s mind, the only question was whether he was a conspirator or if he had been taken captive.
Dr. Wyeth cut into her thoughts, stepping past her to ask Magda for guidance. “Do you have any suggestions for how to treat beryllium poisoning? I’m also unsure if our medicines will help with the coagulation issue.”
“One way to find out,” Magda said. “Test them on me, first.”
Before anyone could react, she cut herself with a small blade and then rubbed the tainted bullet on the wound. Her skin reacted immediately, rays of red streaking her arm, and the blood kept flowing.
Dr. Wyeth didn’t look pleased about testing on a live subject, but Thalia nodded when he silently asked permission. The nurse injected two different drugs, and the second one brought result.
“Hurry,” Dr. Wyeth said.
The nurse fumbled the injector module in her haste but eventually got the medicine into Raff’s body. By this point, Thalia felt like she was watching from above, distant from the blood spatter and the stained gauze, the tubing that piped Tavros’s life into Raff. His vitals were stabilizing, slowly, but they had to figure out what to do about the toxins. The medical staff started arguing amongst themselves, and she could hardly blame them.
“We don’t have time to develop a treatment plan, an antidote, or a cure,” she finally snapped.
Likely thinking she meant to let him die, Magda went for her throat, but Thalia dodged and acted as if the big cat hadn’t moved. “He’s taken enough from Tavros. Connect him to the IC machine now, dialysis mode. It won’t be quick, but it should clean up his blood. Animari natural resilience ought to do the rest.”
Dr. Wyeth stared at her. “That…is brilliant. You heard the queen. Move!”
Confident now that they were on familiar ground, the medical team worked efficiently as Thalia let herself lean against the wall, more weakness than she’d normally show. She’d almost lost her prospective mate before the marriage talks began. This had to be some kind of record.
“Sorry. I misunderstood.”
Glancing up, Thalia found Magda beside her, offering an unexpected apology. She shrugged. “It was a stressful situation.”
“But you saved him…and I’m the one who agreed to protect him. I should have stayed close.”
Thalia shook her head. “There’s no gain in debating who is to blame. I could argue that it’s all my fault for not guarding my lands better.”
Janek joined the conversation then. “Perhaps it’s because I’m old, but I’ve lost my patience for this sort of thing. The blame always rests with the one who did harm, not those who failed to prevent it.”
“Wise words,” Lileth said. “If only these young fools would heed them.”
Thalia laughed quietly over being called young. She had nearly three hundred years behind her, twice the average lifespan of the Animari. Which meant the youngest wolf was hardly more than a baby, yet he’d freely given his blood to save his lord. She had a lot to learn about these people.
The wolves were all clad in robes, and they must be cold, yet they didn’t budge a foot from Raff’s bedside. Skylett and Bibi seemed quietly anguished, casting anxious glances at Magda, as if the tiger woman could heal him through sheer force of will.
Maybe she can.
The infirmary was cold and uninviting, like the rest of Daruvar. Now that Raff was out of danger and the IC machine was working to tip the balance, the environment had to improve. With bare stone walls and blood stains on the floor, this looked like a place where people routinely died in agony.
She made a swift decision. “Get a portable heater in here and call for domestic staff. I need a meal for our guests and some chairs they can use to wait.”
Thalia understood that it would be pointless to try and shoo anyone out. It spoke volumes that Raff was loved so well by his pack. In passing, Thalia wondered who would mourn her so passionately. Gavriel, certainly, and Lileth…. But had she inspired such devotion in her people?
Perhaps not.
Therefore, since the wolves loved him too much to leave him alone, the infirmary must become a waiting room as well. In short order, her will was accomplished, and Bibi bowed deeply in gratitude over the food and hot, sweet tea. She joined them for the haphazard meal, eating only enough to keep the shakes from setting in.
A queen is calm and gracious, under all circumstances. Thalia had been reading and memorizing passages from that old etiquette book for as long as she could remember, and there was a truism for every event. She had been trying to meet the standards of that long-dead ancestor for most of her life.
Odd, it was only that adage that kept her from crying.
Raff woke with a pleasant hum in his head.
A few seconds later, the sound resolved as distinct from him, emitted from machinery attached to his body. His eyelids weighed several kilos each, but he lifted them with heroic effort, the room swimming into focus.
Six meters away, his people dozed against the backs of their chairs. Magda had curled up on the floor in tiger form, and nearest to him—how unexpected. Thalia had pulled a cot up beside his bed and lay curled on her side, facing him. It seemed to be the middle of the night.
Must’ve been out for a while.
His shoulder still hurt like hell, and the rest of his body didn’t feel much better. As he studied her sleeping face, her eyes flickered open, instantly alert. She slept like a soldier, he thought, and not one who watched battles from the wall. No, more like a seasoned veteran who recognized that danger often crept in during the night.
“You’re awake,” she said, smiling.
Thalia sat up and leaned forward, touching her fingers to his forehead.
She was probably checking for fever, but it felt more like a gesture of possession, as if she was about to etch some arcane sigil on his brow and his thoughts might never be his own again. Raff half-smiled at that fancy, relishing the cool feel of her skin against his. The Eldritch didn’t burn as hot as the Animari, and he wondered whether it was possible to warm her from head to toe.
Maybe he even wanted to try.
Those were probably the meds. Seemed like they had given him some good shit.
“What happened?”
It was an open-ended question, meant to let her say whatever she wished. He lacked the energy to ask more, but he didn’t need to. She summarized everything he’d missed succinctly, starting with the attack and ending with the treatment for beryllium poisoning.
Sounds like I owe Tavros and Thalia my life.
“Do you have any idea what House Manwaring’s true objective was? To kill me, kill you, stop the wedding…?” His voice sounded hoarse.
Before answering, she set a straw to his lips. He sipped and cool water trickled into his parched throat. Raff wouldn’t have guessed that the Eldritch princess would be such a capable attendant. At Ash Valley, she had seemed so much more imperious. Perhaps it meant something that he hadn’t been delegated, but he couldn’t fathom what.
“As yet, I’m not sure what they hoped to accomplish. Gavriel is in the field. If they’ve left other agents nearby, he will find them and extract more information.”
Extract. Such a clean, clinical word for the terrible things the Noxblade would do in her name. Raff sighed.
“You said this before, and you were right. We don’t have time to be proper about this, so let’s start these marital talks, Lady Silver.”
“Right now?” Thalia set the cup on his bedside table, eyes wide.
Objectively speaking, she was a fucking mess. Her platinum hair had long since escaped its precise confinement, and it frothed around her weary face in a fine, bright nimbus. Likewise, her clothes were wrinkled, and she had an imprint on one cheek, from resting it on the crook of her arm. A sensible man would back out of this arrangement, as the cost had already been prohibitive, but the benefits he’d noted before still applied, and he’d be damned if he allowed anyone to drive him from his chosen path.
Be they wolf or Eldritch, let the opposition burn and be damned.
“Right now,” he affirmed.
“We should have witnesses…and scribes to take down our terms.”
“Record what we say here and now, have it transcribed later. Is that good enough?”
Her gaze met his, for once uncertain. Somewhere in the long hours between midnight and dawn, she’d lost her queenly bearing. At this instant, Thalia was just a woman carrying more weight than it seemed her shoulders could hold. He remembered Gavriel’s words about how long she’d been fighting alone.
“Yes, very well.” She dug her phone out of a hidden pocket and activated the audio log feature. “You set your requirements first, Lord Wolf. If I have anything to add afterward, I’ll say so.”
I’m really doing this.
This was so far from customary courtship rites that a pang went through him. None who had come before had ever weighed what a mate could give the pack against what needed to be given. Such businesslike acumen made a mockery of what should be all joy and tenderness. Those feelings might have built in time, but that was in short supply, and he had to choose.
“I don’t expect fidelity,” he said softly. “Since we are not marrying for love. I will expect you to attend all formal occasions at my side and to spend at least three months out of the year at Pine Ridge. I will need a portion of your soldiers assigned to our borders as a sign of good faith. In exchange, I’ll send you more drones to help you patrol your territories. We’ll also help you consolidate your hold on Eldritch lands in exchange for aid against Tycho’s forces later.”
“That’s fair.” Her voice was faint, eyes flat and steady. “I agree. I will require reciprocation on all points, including three months at Daruvar or wherever I am posted. Depending on how the war turns, we may live the rest of the year at our discretion, separately if the situation requires.”
Raff already felt like shit, and for some reason, all of that just made it worse. “Understood. But don’t hesitate to send word if I’m needed. Whether we’re together or not, you will be my wife.”
“I’m offering you the title of consort,” Thalia went on, as if he hadn’t spoken.
That pissed him off, too.
“I don’t even fucking want to be king of the Eldritch,” he muttered.
“That is another reason you’re a desirable choice. If I wed an Eldritch, I’d have to worry about their ambition my whole life long. At least with you, there should be some peace of mind.”
“I can’t say anyone’s ever claimed that about me before.”
“Color me unsurprised. One last question, then—do you expect an heir of me?”
He hadn’t thought that far ahead. How damn ridiculous. “I don’t really know how that works among the Eldritch. Animari women choose when they get pregnant, so—”
“That must be nice.” Her tone was wistful. “We rely on science for such matters. In all honesty, it’s not easy for Eldritch women to conceive due to our long lifespans. It’s best done while we’re young, as aging decreases the chances even more.”
There were probably technical explanations about declining sperm counts and decaying ovum, but Raff had no interest in any of that. If he wanted an heir, he could find someone in the pack to carry his genes forward, preferably a woman who didn’t care about his complicated marital status.
Fuck all of this and fuck Talfayen who ruined the conclave, and fuck Tycho Vega especially. I just wanted to drink and hunt and—
Thalia was staring at him like he’d stabbed her with his silence. He scrambled for the right words, a task made tougher by his addled mind and persistent pain.
“I don’t expect that, but if it happens, I’ll welcome our child and be the best father I can.”
“Then let’s move on to my final request. I’d like to frame this marriage like a contract with the terms put in writing and with an expiration date. Ten years should be more than long enough to accomplish what we need together. Oh, and if we finish sooner, there should be an option for early mutual dissolution. Either way, you’ll still be young enough to follow your heart, afterward.”
“What about you?” Raff asked.
Thalia only smiled, a bittersweet expression that didn’t lighten her eyes. “I’ve never been free to do that. Nor will I ever be.”